


you're a light in the jaded world

by katana_fleet



Series: the music room is the heart of the house [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katana_fleet/pseuds/katana_fleet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well then!” the Doctor said forcefully, clapping his hands together and making Alfie squeal and River grin at the baby, “what shall we do? I have many experiments to do, strange electricity fluctuations, I’m trying not to get involved, but I think that just maybe there’s something wrong. I really need to leave now—but one last time, eh?” He ended his spiel in a sad whisper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're a light in the jaded world

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'hold on' by tobymac. all credit to the bbc and the moffat and whoever else. so I may have written a sequel an equally long amount of time ago and here *shoves at your face on a plate and runs away*

Craig was pacing around Alfie’s little bedroom, trying to get his baby to take a nice early afternoon nap. The Doctor had refused to put him to sleep with his Time Lord skills this time—“How will you manage when I’m not around? Oh, sorry, Craig”—and so Craig was stuck with the crying infant on his own.

Suddenly he heard the doorbell. _Loud doorbell_ , he thought as he slowly descended the stairs while holding an infant and trying not to drop said infant. _Should probably get that replaced until the kid can sleep through the night._

He opened the door, intending to tell the person to leave now because _my-baby-needs-to-go-to-sleep-before-I-go-insane_. He never said this eloquent speech, for the person standing in front of him was another frequent member of his Doctor nightmares. “Hi” burst out of his mouth.

River smiled up at him. “Hello, dear, how are you?”

“I’m Craig, remember me? And this is—”

“Yes, I know you, Craig. Timelines synched up for once.” Alfie giggled. “And this is Stormageddon, Dark Lord of All,” she said with amusement. “However did you come up with that, Stormy?” The baby squeaked. “Of course, I understand. Not Dad’s fault he doesn’t have a terribly interesting name himself. Now, Craig,” she reluctantly tore her eyes away from Alfie with an apologetic smile, “could I come in?”

 “Of course, come on in, I think the Doctor’s in the—” Craig didn’t finish his sentence because River lightly brushed past him, tip-tapped into the house, and found the Doctor sprawled on the couch, fiddling with his screwdriver with a look on his face not unlike resignation and abject depression. Craig followed her, Alfie gurgling happily on his shoulder.

“Hello, sweetie,” she sang.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor demanded as he jumped up to glare over the side of the couch at Craig, who shrugged.

“Thought you’d be glad to have me,” she said lightly as she sat next to him and brushed her hand down his face.

“Nope,” he said quickly even as he leaned closer to her.

“I’ll just be off, then. I was in the middle of a nice war on the Sontarans. Ridiculous potatoes,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome to go back to your war on Strax and his renowned potato people whenever you like. Just close the door behind you.”

They watched each other for just a moment. Craig cleared his throat and carefully waved at them, successfully not dropping his baby. He was actually getting better at this dad thing.

“Craig!” The Doctor suddenly jumped up, not touching River, who stood up just in time that the Doctor didn’t knock her off the couch. “You remember River! Good, good. It’s always good when people remember each other, happens so rarely—why are you even here?” he turned to River.

“Got a bit bored,” she said airily even as she glanced pointedly to the calendar behind the Doctor. _April 21, 2011_. He, looking down at River’s combat boots and then back up to her face in a flash, nodded.

“Well then!” he said forcefully, clapping his hands together and making Alfie squeal and River grin at the baby, “what shall we do? I have many experiments to do, strange electricity fluctuations, I’m trying not to get involved, but I think that _just maybe_ there’s something wrong. I really need to leave _now_ —but one last time, eh?” He ended his spiel in a sad whisper.

“Have you scanned the area for residual transportation energy?” River asked, looking around Craig’s living room and pulling out a computer that looked about five times the thickness of an iPhone. The Doctor grabbed his screwdriver and scanned the room once more.

Craig grinned. The entire scene—the strange people with their strange technology in a normal living room owned by a normal person holding a probably normal kid—was absolutely brilliant. He got Alfie his bottle, giving up on getting the kid to take a nap, and sat down on Sophie’s chair next to the TV to watch the aliens.

“River, are you an alien like the Doctor?” he suddenly asked.

River smiled in his general direction. “Half Time Lord like him upstairs and half human. Essentially. Why?”

Craig nodded as he put Alfie on the floor on a blanket. “You two just seem to work together so well. Just wondering. And you’re as smart as him, too. Does above-average IQ levels come with Time Lord?”

The Doctor nodded happily even as River shook her head. Craig took that to mean that Time Lords weren’t necessarily smarter than humans. Always go with the lady, he thought, as the aliens began an argument over this IQ level while still scanning the room.

“But we _are_ smarter, River—”

“—Keep telling yourself that, sweetie—” River replied, rolling her eyes.

“No human could possibly pilot the TARDIS!”

“Then you must be the human plus and I the proper Time Lord. You cannot fly the TARDIS, and I fly her very well. Accept it, Doctor.”

“She _taught_ you how. It doesn’t count. But I can fly the TARDIS!”

“Barely—”

“I found Craig and he had moved!”

“That merely means that the Old Girl really wanted you to get to Craig, or that your sense of direction is really worse than I thought. Come over here, sweetie, the energy’s even stronger farther north.”

The Doctor moved to stand right behind her, his chest brushing her shoulder blade, and look at her computer. “I can too fly the TARDIS,” he muttered into her hair.

“He really can’t,” River said conversationally to Craig, who nodded along. Always agree with the lady. Especially when said lady currently had a large gun strapped to her thigh. Just a way to stay alive longer. “One time, he arrived two hours late to take me to some planet—”

“—New New Orleans in 8142. Cultural reenactment of a Mardi Gras festival—”

“He got there late because he had landed his TARDIS in the middle of a war in Babylon about 2000 Earth years ago, which another me eventually rescued him from. He was only about two galaxies and ten thousand Earth years off,” River glared at the Doctor. He had the decency to look down at his feet in faux shame.

“Did you get to the festival?” Craig asked.

“Yes, after I drove us. Sweetie, stop pouting. Your face is going to get stuck like that. Where is the nearest lift, Craig?”

“What?” Craig and the Doctor asked in unison.

“Lift. Where would you find one?”

“That new department store, I think…” Craig was really rather confused. One cannot blame him, however.

“Interesting,” River murmured as she exchanged a pointed glance at the Doctor, who was quickly becoming excited and starting to pace, mutter to himself, and wave his arms about. River smiled— _her work done_ , Craig thought—and sat down on the couch, watching Alfie grab at his toes and make little squeaky noises in utter fascination at his own tiny feet.

Craig glanced at River’s face as she watched his child. She looked a little sad and a little wistful. Craig picked up Alfie and slowly—he didn’t trust his hands—gave him to River, whose face showed quite a bit of joy and trepidation at the offer. The Doctor stopped talking to himself when River took the baby. He stood for a moment behind the couch and stared down at them with an expression not unlike hers—sadness and longing. So much longing.

They were definitely together.

After a nice dinner in which Craig offered them food, they accepted gallantly, and all ate with varying degrees of disgust at Craig’s astounding cooking skills (Craig tried not to gag at his own genius. The Doctor visibly held back spitting out the macaroni and insisted he could have cooked. River ate with happy composure until she reached the green beans, which she poked and asked him kindly if he had been taking cooking lessons from a Zygon, as the spices looked remarkably similar to something they enjoyed. Craig was unsure as to whether this was a compliment. Alfie swallowed his carrot baby food grudgingly and with the occasional whine), Craig went up to put Alfie to bed.

When he returned, the Doctor and River were standing in the living room, arms tight around each other and slowly turning in a circle. They were whispering in what seemed to be another language, as it was more melodic, soft, and beautiful than any English Craig had ever heard. Craig backed out very quickly. River still had her frankly impressive gun on her. It would not do to incur the woman’s wrath by interruption.

The voices rose and fell over the next hour and twenty-six minutes.

One time he heard River laugh, saying “Captain Jack Harkness” in between giggles. The Doctor snorted and muttered furiously.

Two times the Doctor whispered with a painfully concerned tone, “What happens to you, though? Afterwards? Are you okay? _Please_ be okay…” and River made some inconsequential sound that faded back into the alien language.

Three times the noise stopped very abruptly. The first time this happened, he poked his head in to make sure that no silent murder had occurred during his most exceptional parental supervision. Of course, he was sure that hadn’t happened, as the two were most certainly _together_. People who were _together_ didn’t murder each other, generally. However, he had to retreat very quickly. The pair were squeezed even tighter together, the Doctor’s hands in River’s hair and her hands on his face. And they were kissing very, very _thoroughly_.

Finally, as the sun set completely, the voices stopped. “Are you two… done?” Craig called.

“Come in, Craig,” came the Doctor’s voice, slightly ragged.

Craig slowly stepped into the living room where he now felt somewhat uneasy. The Doctor and River were sitting on the couch, his arm around her and she curled into his side. As Craig walked in, he expected them to spring apart, but the Doctor’s arm merely twitched as if the arm was thinking that propriety stated that it had better get up. The Doctor disregarded propriety and his arm curled tighter around River.

“Are you okay?” Craig asked.

The Doctor’s eyes were edged with red, River looked exhausted, and they both appeared much older and sadder. A flat “absolutely fantastic” was all that the Doctor said.

“Shall I turn on the TV?” Craig inquired, completely uneasy now.

“If you like,” River said wearily. “I have to be getting back to Stormcage though, sweetie.”

“Now? Why now? You just got here!”

“Yes,” she murmured as she stood. “Are your neighbors particularly skittish, Craig? Or should I use the vortex manipulator in here?”

The Doctor stretched his neck to look out the window. “Better do it in here. Mr. Arnold’s out drinking lemonade on the lawn. He’s sitting at a child’s picnic table. Is that normal?” he asked.

“Probably a remnant of his childhood and he’s losing it just a bit. Hope you don’t mind a faint hint of ozone, Craig.”

“No, why?”

“You’ll see.” She walked over to Craig and kissed his cheek. Then she strode back to the Doctor, who had made the most excellent jealous face, although he most _certainly_ wasn’t _jealous_ , and whispered something to him in that other language. He whispered back, quickly kissed her.

River pulled back and opened her wristband. She poked at a few buttons, stared at the Doctor who nodded, and disappeared in a flash of light and the predicted smell of ozone.

The Doctor and Craig watched the spot she had disappeared, Craig with the startled face that had become typical from the moment the Doctor knocked on his door and the Doctor with a sad and pensive face.. Finally, Craig stood. “I’ll be off to bed, then, and you make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh, I don’t need sleep,” the Doctor chirped. With the exception of his old, old, sad eyes and the lipstick smudge on his mouth, he appeared to have sprung back to normal. “I’ll just work on figuring out what’s going on; I think it’s indeed a teleportation device in frequent use, like River said. Where’s the paper? How many more have disappeared today?”

Craig tossed him the paper and turned to go off to bed, but quickly he whirled back around, gathering courage. “Are you and River together? ‘Cause you definitely should be.”

The Doctor’s head snapped up from the news and he glared at Craig. “No! That’s humany-wumany stuff! We’re not _together_! Wherever did you get that idea?”

“The bickering like a married couple, the all working-together-really-well, and the kissing. It’s a dead giveaway, mate.” Craig shrugged. “Accept it.”

“ _Shut up_.”

“You’re totally together, though,” Craig said. As he left the room, he heard the Doctor mutter,

“ _Together_. Huh. Yes. Good word. Me and River.” Craig heard a faint giggle as he closed the door to his room. “Okay.”


End file.
